Life of a Former Nun and Doctor
by Pseudonym-Alice
Summary: Collection of short ficlets (sometimes long) on a certain GP and former nun, a place for all my Tumblr posts to be archived. There are times when it's easier to type away on Tumblr than on Word, along with many posts and people that simply inspire me!
1. Doctor Turner's Letters

**Short ficlet and more to be added to this collection of one-shots written off of Tumblr. Sometimes I enjoy Tumblr rather than a Word doc. from time to time and get inspired from many posts and people from Tumblr. Hope you all enjoy!**

* * *

"I wrote to you."

"Yes," but a moment of silence had passed between them. In that split second, he took a moment to recount what his letters had held for her. In their previous exchange, he had unknowingly relied on his clinical diagnosis. He was unable to find words of true comfort, for he too was disheartened by her situation. He was scared that if he divulged too much too soon, she wouldn't be ready to hear it.

He took his time to find his words and wrote out the secrets of his heart to the only other woman that had stolen it. He had patiently waited and now it was his turn to respond.

"I don't know if I said too much. Or not enough."

"You said, what was necessary," clutching the phone tightly. She took her time in finding her words, careful in their exchange. Her decision to leave Saint Anne represented a great deal more to come and was afraid the other occupants would hear their discussion. She had made the decision to follow her heart, to live a life that was different and true to God's plans for her.

A choice reaffirmed by his letters…

* * *

 _I can't seem to bear it any longer. I can feel the vacancy you left and I don't want to be without you. I know this may be selfish, but I had to tell you that I love you._

 _I would like to tell you not to pick me. I don't want you to choose between Him and me. Your Lord who was there for you, who gave you a family filled with Sisters and your current life. Then again, if I thought that I wouldn't be writing to you, which is why I'm telling you to choose me. Please let me love you, let me hold you, and let me make you happy Sister Bernadette._


	2. The Painting

She didn't expect the extent of her bodily pain nor the emotional scarring following her surgery. She was fooling herself in believing everything would fall back into place once they arrived home. Shelagh had left many tears behind on the patient bed of Dr. Horringer, on the road from Harley Street to their flat. But the tears continued on even when Patrick held her, through his endless kisses, and when he would let go.

Shelagh mustered enough strength to dry her tears before Timothy could see her, but in reality her tears ducts just dried up. Only to be replenished later, when she was alone in bed at the conclusion of the day. Life had carried on for everyone else, except for Shelagh, a part of her felt a disconnect and voiced her seed of doubt to Patrick.

"I know what I have and I am extremely grateful…I never deserved Timothy or you and I still wanted more. Perhaps that's why, this is payment for leaving the Order, for choosing a life-"

"Don't say that," voiced Patrick harshly, it was unintentional but he wanted Shelagh to know that none of this was a punishment, not for either one of them.

"I'm sorry," replied Shelagh as she turned towards Patrick, back into his embrace.

A short time had passed when she found her physical pain subsiding, along with her doubts. She had embraced their loss and fully embraced what she had with the Turner men, which was a blessing.

Shelagh allowed herself time to grieve and time to accept the fact that she would never give birth, but rejoiced in what she did have. She was a mother, a wife, and family to former Sisters and nurses.

It was time to return back to her duties and to help in any way she could. Shelagh had just placed a few files on her desk when something caught her eye.

The item in question had gone unnoticed before, Patrick's surgery had been in practice for a long time. Decorated and rearranged countless times, but not until now did Shelagh fully notice the painting behind her desk. It was rather simple and beautiful in its form, while light and airy.

Shelagh found herself rooted in place, a multitude of thoughts running through her mind. 'Would our daughter have been that beautiful? Would she had shared some of Timothy's interests?' Shelagh continued on for a few moments until arms had encircled her waist, drawing her back to reality.

Patrick came up from behind her, unknown what state he would find Shelagh in, but willing and ready to listen to his wife.

"What is it, my love?" Asked Patrick, nuzzling the side of her hair and resting against her, displaying love and concern in his actions.

"I just never noticed the painting before."

"Would you like me to take it down?"

"No, it just reminded me of things I dreamt about, but at the same time reminded me how we forget the little things. I think it's alright to wonder, but we can't forget the people and moments around us," she turned to him then, seeking understanding in his eyes. "I'm alright, maybe not hundred percent, but I will be Patrick."

They exchanged a knowing smile and a loving kiss before closing the surgery early and headed back home where so many dreams had been shared.

 _Yes, only time would allow other dreams to be envisioned and to come true…_


	3. The Start of Things

Her pain went unspoken for many months, weeks, and days leading up to her release. She had shielded her thoughts, the effect was akin to a thunderstorm, brewing in the distance. She never wished to make a fuss, choosing to suffer in silence, but he took notice of her. He saw her when no one else did and in turn, their feelings were realized.

It started as a simple exchange of words, volumes exchanged between glances, their eyes unknowingly seeking the other, and finally the touch of their hands, which led to a kiss. A kiss too brief it left one wondering if it even took place, but for the other, it felt as if time had stopped. But she knew the action was wrong and turned away from such temptation. She belonged to the Order and was merely a servant of the Lord, not one to break her religious vows.

A short passage of time had took place, death was faced for one as the other realized the prospect of losing her. Their revelations were finally made known and soon letters followed, revealing his feelings for the woman who had stolen his heart away. The other had decided to take action, revealing her choice over the telephone to him, and set forth to travel along the misty road.

Mist had obscured her sense of direction and had missed the bus back to Poplar. She found herself wandering the road alone, her figure obscured by the water droplets suspended in the atmosphere, but like he said, he saw her. Visibility would not separate the two, as his MG pulled to a halt and both knew the other was there. He emerged from the car, drinking in her new appearance.

For a moment he thought his eyes had deceived him, for she was no longer cloaked in the habit. 'Does this mean she's choosing me, choosing us?' were his initial thoughts, which he desperately wanted to voice, but ran up to her instead. He was compelled to touch her and so he did, containing his actions to that of a physician while his insides were screaming for more. She shivered at his touch, never wanting anything else in the world than his hands on her body.

He was a gentleman and restrained himself as he went to cover her with his coat. Showering her in his scent while he tightened his grasp at the collar, ensuring the actuality of their moment. Confirming the presence of Sister-no, she didn't go by that name anymore. He realized then, there was a great deal more to be known about the former Sister and would do anything to know every detail about her.

His undeclared observation was answered when they exchanged their first names and went back to the MG. His arm draped over her shoulder, while his hand held on to hers. A sensation they would never forget, but reluctantly parted for the journey home. Back to the familiar surroundings of Poplar, back to the surgery, the clinic, and to Nonnatus House.

Nothing around them had changed, a fact not true for the couple. They both realized this fact as he drew her hands to his lips, placing a gentle kiss upon her knuckles. Everything from then on would be different, but would be experienced together as Shelagh and Patrick.


	4. The Morning After

Everything was blurry at first, but the presence of light helped in rousing her awake. She had sat up in an effort to further waken her senses, but only experienced confusion. The daze yielded from a very good night's sleep persisted as she tried to recognize her unknown surroundings. At first, she noted how the room was nothing like her cell at Nonnatus House. It was larger, the walls a lighter tone, and even the window letting in the morning's rays was different.

She then switched her attention to what she was sitting on, taking in the softness of the mattress, which was a great deal more comfortable than her previous bed. Her attention was then drawn to herself. Looking down at her slip, touching the silk fabric, and then noticed the movement of another body next to her.

In that moment the haze had finally cleared, she was able to realize where she was and smiled contently to herself. The form next to her didn't take as long to remember where he was or what had transpired last night. He sat up behind her, encompassing her form in a tight back hug. He held onto her for a few moments before he started to lay a trail of kisses along her shoulder, brushing her hair aside to continue the action up her neck.

His lips were soft, gentle against her skin as he continued to drag out each kiss. She got lost in the moment, her breathing became heavy, hitched in her throat from his warm breath and lips against her exposed area.

She was only able to release his name, "Patrick," from her half-parted lips, barely above a whisper.

"Hmm?" was his simple response as Patrick continued his post-wedding night ministrations.

"We should get up. It would be improper to stay in bed any longer. I mean," but Shelagh was cut off when he broke contact for a moment to invade another area of her body, behind her ear. Shelagh couldn't help but lose concentration, her worries dying down on her lips while she became lost in the feeling of their love-making.

"You," as he delivered one tender kiss, "were," then another, "saying?" upon her irresistible skin.

"That, that we should get up."

"But we are up."

"Yes, but to dress and not spend all day in bed."

"What's wrong with that?" Patrick asked while he tried to entice her further with the devilish moment of his hands.

"My love, you don't have to worry anymore what people think. We're husband and wife now, forever linked and our business is our own."

Shelagh allowed his words to sink in and looked down at her left ring finger, at the wedding band and ring which sparkled. She knew Patrick was right and decided to throw caution out the window, deciding to be daring for him.

"Alright then," breaking free from Patrick to pull her slip over her head and only letting the duvet cover her bare form. She turned her head over her shoulder, smiling triumphantly back.

"Why my bold wife," returning her smile and pulling her down with him. He proceeded to kiss her equally eager lips as his hand removed the duvet and brushed against her exposed breasts.

Their day was filled with the bliss and wonder marriage has to offer, their love unfolding as he loomed over her. Their eyes bore into one another, they exchanged the familiar sound of heavy breathing and shared in the experience of reaching towards heaven. Again, they found themselves cocooned in each other's arms. Sleep taking over their bodies to re-energize themselves for the rest of their days shared as husband and wife. As Doctor and Mrs. Turner with their son Timothy and hopefully, the arrival of another family member to come.


End file.
